


You're Not The One That I Want... Not By A Long Shot

by lexterminate



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M, One Night Stand, post-sex, the morning after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:14:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8459779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexterminate/pseuds/lexterminate
Summary: Clarke wakes up to realize she had sex with John Murphy....





	

Clarke always woke with a start before dawn. The trauma of her life on Earth had turned her into a light sleeper. Her lips were chapped and she licked them as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Her head was pounding — what happened last night… and why was she naked? she began to panic as she became more aware of her body. Clarke pulled the blanket tighter around her as she began to turn looking for her clothes or some clue to what might have happened the night before…and there he was asleep next to her… John Murphy.

She couldn’t have, there’s no way she would ever… She did not have sex with Murphy and that was all there was to it, except for the fact that she could feel it. It happened, even if she couldn’t remember it at all. They had been drinking in the bunker… an anti-unity day celebration. Life on Earth sucks, so let’s drink it away…and they did. They drank and they danced and he might have kissed her, but no no no. She didn’t want to think about this anymore.

Usually Murphy slept late. For him, being awake meant being on guard and having to fight to survive another day on this hellscape called Earth. He had learned to live with his nightmares and sleep through his trauma, so that now being asleep was his only freedom from the harsh reality of his existence. He had been woken up though by the sound of someone moving around the room. Opening his eyes, he glanced around until he saw…

“Clarke? What the fuck? Why are you…” Murphy was going to finish that sentence with the word ‘here,’ but his vision caught up to his brain and he sputtered, “naked?”

Clarke was fumbling to cover herself; she still hadn’t found her shirt anywhere in the mess and found herself hugging a pillow in front of her chest… “Shit! Murphy… just go back to sleep. It’s not important.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow at her, “Um..right. Not until you tell me what’s going on. Did something happen last night?”

_Shit. He doesn’t remember at all. I shouldn’t tell him, should I?_ Clarke bit her lip and stared at him. “…Um…We might have slept together, but we’re not talking about it. Let’s move on.”

“We did what now?” He stared back at her dumbfounded. He didn’t remember that at all and it seemed like something he should remember. “How drunk were we?”

“Very. Now go back to sleep so I can find my shirt and pretend this never happened,” She told him as she crouched down to check under the bed, careful to hold the pillow in place.

Murphy just got out of bed, barely conscious of his own nudity and semi-erect morning wood. “Well, I’m awake now, princess.”

“Oh my god, Murphy, would you please put some pants on!” Clarke quickly averted her eyes and stumbled back, still unable to find her shirt.

Looking down to check himself, he only blushed slightly, “Oh, sorry, but i mean, it’s been inside you… “

“Jesus christ, Murphy. I don’t want to see your penis and we’re moving past this, it didn’t happen. Okay?”

Murphy pulled on a pair of pants and then tossed Clarke her shirt, which had gotten pushed down in between the couch cushions.”Yeah, okay… I didn’t want to have sex with you either, Clarke. Trust me, you’re not my type.”

Dropping the pillow, Clarke quickly pulled on her shirt. “Oh yeah? And what is your type?” She had to know.

“What’s it matter? It’s not you,” He snarled. “You should get out of here. Someone’s probably missing you.”

He wasn’t wrong. They were all probably wondering where she disappeared to, but the truth remained that sometimes she had to get away, sometimes she had to forget and last night she had forgotten. She had lost herself completely and did something she felt like she should regret, but she didn’t because it wasn’t her…not really.

Someone else had sex with John Murphy and she was left to pick up the pieces as always. She would pick up and move on like always, and last night wouldn’t have happened at all.

She left Murphy standing there, pouring himself another drink and she didn’t look back.

He didn’t watch her leave. He took a long drink of straight whiskey and shook his head. There were fuzzy details forming in his mind; the loud din of the record player, her body pressed against his and he was kissing her, pulling off her shirt and touching her everywhere.

It was like he was outside of himself watching a film about someone else, but it was him and it was her. At least they looked like they were enjoying themselves.

Never. Again. Murphy told himself. This wasn’t meant to be. It was a fallacy. He closed his eyes and tried to forget again.

He didn’t want her; he didn’t even like her… It happened and it was over. He was over it. Now that she was gone though, he was alone again. It was normal, but it still hurt.

Murphy sighed. He wished he had just stayed asleep.


End file.
